


Heart

by Coraleeveritas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Sneedronningen | The Snow Queen - Hans Christian Andersen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only a true champion and an act of love can bring back one lost to the snow and ice.</p><p>Halloween challenge based around Hans Christian Anderson's The Snow Queen</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> With huge huge thanks to Rellie and H3L for setting up this challenge, here is my alternative canon take on The Snow Queen for the Halloween challenge.
> 
> I have been sitting on this for so long now that I can't begin to explain how excited I am to share it with you all!
> 
> Thanks to my marvellous beta, RoseHeart, for being the most patient and supportive person ever and reading every single draft!
> 
> Anything you recognise belongs to either GRRM or Hans Christian Anderson, I'm just borrowing for Halloween fun!

It was said that Aerys Targaryen was mad. More than that though, it was almost common knowledge that he was obsessed with magic. The small folk would whisper excitedly every time a new envoy from Asshai would sail into Blackwater Bay. Sorcerers and witches and magic men all would come to entertain the increasingly erratic monarch. One day, a normal day with nothing to mark it as extraordinary, Aerys was gifted a looking glass from a silent man hailing from the lost city of Qarth.  
   
But this was no ordinary looking glass; the images reflected in it would remove everything good or beautiful in the world, distorting them to almost nothing. Though where the darkness touched, ugly and unsightly became more than just occasional moments of despair which could consume a man in the purity of misery. Kings Landing became as Harrenhal, a smoking burning wreck, and even the most beautiful women in Aerys’ household were unrecognisable.  
   
And The Mad King laughed, for it was one of the greatest gifts he had ever received.  
   
Even thinking of his children, innocent to the ways of the world, would produce a wicked grin on the man reflected back at him.   
   
And The Mad King laughed again.  
   
The Targaryen dynasty no longer held control over legions of dragons, but there was still one left to remind him of past glories. Taking flight on the small, stunted beast Aerys surveyed all of the Seven Kingdoms with the looking glass in his hands. So pleased with the damage it was causing, the glass began to shake under its own power. And no longer in the control of the King it was gifted to, it slipped from Aerys' hands and fell. It fell spinning and laughing, laughing and spinning until the ground hit and glass shattered.  
   
An eastern wind came, almost a spell in itself, and scattered the pieces throughout Westeros. Hundreds of thousands of pieces, some no bigger than dust, swirled in the air until they settled where they could continue to cause harm. Some men, including some of the best knights in the land, found dust in their eyes that day and were never the same again. Worse still were the pieces that pierced the hearts of men, women and children alike which, despite the heat of the summer sun, became blocks of ice that never melted.  
   
Though, not content with the pain already inflicted, the magic kept some of the dust swirling in the air, waiting for a time when it could find more noble and just hearts to corrupt.  
   
And still The Mad King laughed.


	2. Part 2

The island of Tarth had long been a place where men could seek refuge from their fears or wrongdoings, sea air and solitude welcoming many a pilgrim seeking a moon's turn to forget the horrors of battle. The calming sapphire blue waters that transfixed broken knights and beautiful ladies alike were said to have come from the tears of the Maiden herself, lamenting the loss of the only love she had ever known.  
   
So when the great Tywin Lannister's eldest son and heir reached a certain age, there was only one place he could think of for him to squire. There had been whispers at Casterly Rock, whispers of things no brother and sister should engage in, so no sooner had Jaime's eleventh name day come and gone, he was sent to the most honourable of all his father's bannermen: Lord Selwyn Tarth.  
   
Lord Selwyn was a bear of a man, a fighting half giant his servants liked to joke, but never had a gentler father been seen. The family also had an heir, as all nobles were expected to produce, but the only surviving child of the four birthed by the late Lady Tarth was no strong boy or delicate girl. Even at five years old the whole island knew Brienne wasn't a typical little girl. Deeply affected by the loss of her brother not ten moons earlier, the child had retreated into a world of fair maidens and noble knights, dreaming of a time when she could finally rescue her family from wherever they were being held prisoner. Her father told her stories of the Gods, the making of Westeros and their fertile island home, but though she listened intently Brienne thought they must be cruel and fickle to take a little boy away from his father and sister. Much more exciting were the tales of princesses in towers, dragons and chivalry that Brienne knew so well there was no need for the story book her father pulled out each night. She wasn't old enough to have any concept of why the women in the stories were maids, only that they were beautiful and helpless. Septa Roelle had made sure she would never think of herself as beautiful, as Brienne was tall for her age and dappled with imperfect freckles that the long summer was only making worse. After much pleading her father had finally agreed that Brienne could begin her training with wooden sword as soon as she reached her seventh name day. It seemed to all who knew her that since Brienne would never resemble one of the maids in the stories she loved so much, she was trying to make sure she would never be as helpless as any one of the delicate ladies in her dreams either.  
   
Jaime's arrival on Tarth was not met with a fanfare or a feast but with the excited chatter of a little girl who quickly began to think of the young golden knight to be as the Warrior incarnate. And despite their difference in age, six years often feeling like a lifetime, Jaime grew to like his new shadow. The almost constant presence of the often quiet girl reminding him of another child who had lost a mother but not their dreams.  
   
It was not long before like turned into love, the innocent love that should exist between brothers and sisters, every moon allowing Jaime to slowly loosen the hold his golden twin had over him.  
   
After his duties were complete and Brienne's lessons had dragged to a close for another morning, he would attempt to show her the ways of the knights they both admired with all of their childish hearts. Jaime taught her to ride, sharing a horse until the muscles in her arms and legs had strengthened enough to take the reins of her own beast. And Brienne recited her stories, finally comfortable enough with him to find her tongue. She would never be quick with a joke like Jaime but her sapphire eyes swam like ocean currents as she re-told her favourite tales and her excited tone made up for any slow delivery.  
   
And when her Septa let the cries and whimpers of her nightmares carry through Evenfall Hall at night, stating that a child of six should know how to sleep through the night, Jaime would grow tired enough of the sound to slip into Brienne's bed and soothe away each bad thought like he would have done for his siblings. If Selwyn had any misgivings about his young squire waking up in his daughter's bed with her tiny fist clutched in his tear soaked tunic, the Lord didn't voice them. They were but children and even if he took notice of rumours, Jaime represented no danger to Brienne judging by the way he protectively guarded her body with his own in his sleep. As if together they could destroy an entire battalion of Others if only given half a chance.  
   
By the time Jaime won his first mêlée, thirteen and golden and strong, Selwyn had come to think of the Lannister boy as less of a squire and more as a member of the family. There was even the beginning of a thought that, should the boy's father allow it, Jaime would be welcome to take up a more permanent position at their table when Brienne flowered. But for now, when they returned from the tourney his daughter was more interested in the small wooden sword Jaime presented her with. He had painstakingly crafted it so that she could begin her much longed for training with Tarth's master of arms, selfishly believing that by Brienne's next name day he would be the first squire with a squire.   
   
Winter came, as was predicted by the cold and steadfast Lords of the North, though Jaime and Brienne paid the Stark warning little attention when snow still meant the novelty of fur lined boots and mid afternoon ambushes. That first winter they had together was brief and mild, but on the day Jaime unceremoniously pushed her off her pony into a large snow drift after a disagreement got a little out of hand, Brienne could not feel anything but cold and wet.   
   
It was over dinner that evening, the silence between his two charges deafening, that Selwyn told the story of The Snow Queen. Legend told that she had once been a member of the Targaryen royal family who had ventured too far north and unused to the cold, had frozen in the land beyond The Wall. Those who she appeared to never returned to share their stories, as the Queen stole those few brave souls away to join her forever in her palace of ice and snow. Of course Jaime knew he was too old for such a tale, grinning at a sullen Brienne from across the table but secretly he could not tear himself away.

"Can she come in here?" Brienne asked suddenly, interrupting her father with innocence.  
   
"Let her come", Jaime boldly replied, an easy arrogance just starting to take hold along with the beauty he would grow into adulthood with, "And I will melt her on the fire."  
   
Selwyn only smiled in response and found other stories to tell.  
   
 

Summer followed spring, each season passing by in the blink of an eye as Brienne was given a steel blade to practice with and Jaime a knighthood.   
   
 _One of the youngest in the history of the order. Knighted by Ser Arthur Dayne himself_ , he would brag to his childhood friend, until Jaime found little Brienne wasn't so little anymore. She was almost eye to eye with him as they circled around the yard, blunted weapons in hand, Jaime throwing away mocking words with every breath. They didn't matter much when Brienne would knock him on his backside more often than not, claiming another victory as he yielded angrily.  
   
On one day in particular, not long after Jaime had returned from Queen Rhaella's name day tournament, storm clouds gathered ominously as he sparred with the girl he wished he could smuggle along to the next joust. Tarth was often at the mercy of brief but fantastical summer storms and since his arrival they had become another part of the island that Jaime had strangely grown to love.   
   
The wind howled around his ears as he lay grumbling on the warm ground, noticing that for the first time Brienne didn't even glance upwards as she closed in on him. When the thunder rumbled she barely even jumped, no longer the same child who shivered as she bravely stood and faced the coming downpours. As Brienne offered him her hand, helping him to his feet, Jaime realised that soon these shared days would be at an end. And although what Brienne would lack in beauty she would make up for in strength, his friend couldn't outfight her blossoming womanhood forever. Before long she would be a maiden to be wooed and wedded.  
   
Jaime didn't mean to stare but as he caught and held onto familiar and almost pretty sapphires he felt an uneasy fascination swirling from how shy Brienne's smiles were becoming. A flush coloured her cheeks that had little to do with exertion as she lowered her gaze and he suddenly blinked, scrunching his face in pain caused by a sudden stab behind his eyelids.   
   
Brienne forced him to open his eyes again while she tried to find any offending object caught in his gaze, gentle despite her clumsiness, but found nothing hiding in the sparkling emerald orbs. What the two young hearts did not know was that the piece of the Mad King's magic mirror had already pierced Jaime's heart, the very same hateful glass that made everything good wither away to nothing and amplified what was bad and cruel to reflect even the slightest faults in the world. Jaime's heart would soon harden and freeze but for now the pain was already leaving him.  
   
"Stop pitying me child", he snapped, irritable now although they had often seen to each others cuts and bruises when the Maester was busy. Jaime on occasion would even press his lips to knees and wrists as his mother had been prone to do. "Don't you know it makes you look even uglier than usual?"  
   
"Jaime?" Brienne questioned, for he had never once seriously teased or mocked her like the other children had.  
   
"Ser Jaime", he corrected her bleating syllable by syllable, "I am a knight now and you should learn to address me correctly."  
   
She only stared back in surprise and Jaime couldn't help but compare her large, stupid eyes to those of a cow.  
   
After that he was no longer interested in exploring the island paradise he had come to call home, nor did he want to teach his friend how to strike and parry the blows of his knightly sword. Jaime's fighting turned dangerous, deadly, and each bruise he left on Brienne's freckled skin brought him an unusual but unparalleled joy.  
   
By the time the cycle of the seasons brought another winter, this one earlier than was expected, a raven arrived on Tarth with news that would be the push Jaime needed to leave behind the shackles of squiredom. His sister, the same sister he had once promised to die for and die with, between stolen kisses and promises of more, along with Jaime himself were to be married off to solidify the links between the great and noble houses of Westeros.  
   
Jaime had known for some time that the day would come when his father would pull him away from Tarth, pull him away from Brienne as he had taken him away from Cersei, but now when it happened he found he cared little for the freckled child with the ugly, ugly eyes.  
   
His thoughts were only for his sister.  
   
Rhaeger Targaryen, Cersei’s intended betrothed, was a great warrior and no doubt a worthy match, but no platitude could remove the knowledge that Cersei would only ever belong to him. Despite their time apart they were still two halves of one whole and they would leave this world as they had entered it; together.   
   
He needn't have worried though. His sister was almost as clever as she was beautiful, persuading and charming her husband-to-be to find Jaime a place where he could be close to her. The white cloak was calling to him, as was Cersei herself, working with the notoriety that being not quite seventeen and already a member of the Kingsguard could provide.  
   
The past few years were all but forgotten as Jaime left nothing behind except his horse, the most hideous yellow beast he had ever laid eyes on, mockingly telling Brienne before boarding the boat back to the mainland that they might just be ugly enough to suit each other. She wept for the first time in years when she found the horse in the stables, the glass that she didn't know was slowly freezing Jaime's heart preventing him from realising the sheer beauty and power in the gifted golden charger.  
   
Although not so long ago Jaime would have quickly begun to miss his young training partner, that day as sapphire blue oceans faded into murky open water so did his thoughts of Brienne. And by the time his boat had landed at Lannisport, cherished memories had all been replaced by the promised warmth hiding behind gold and green.  
   
The journey to Kings Landing was fraught with perils, for it should not have been attempted while snow was still falling from the sky but with every heavy step Jaime could almost hear the soft sounds of his sister calling to him. His new position may have meant that he would never hold any lands or father a child, but finally being as one with Cersei would push those concerns away.  
   
As was often custom, the small party of loyal bannermen escorting Jaime to the capital took nightly refuge in the homes of great and small Lords alike. However it only furthered the young knight's impatience to discover that their chosen path took them through Riverrun, where his intended Tully bride welcomed him with surprising immodesty.  
   
Later that evening, after he had grown bored of the pleasant feast thrown in his honour, Jaime slipped away to the stables with every intention of taking his horse and travelling the remaining distance to Kings Landing by himself. Though what he found on that cold winter's night would change not only his destiny but that of so many others.  
   
In the near dark and with the snow beginning to fall in larger and larger flakes, so thick he could barely see an arm’s length in front of him, a silver carriage glinted in the soft moonlight. It was difficult to see who exactly was travelling in the approaching carriage as it floated over the ice, but Jaime remained unafraid, for he had seen more battles then men twice his age and in all that time had only come across one young woman who could regularly defeat him in open combat.  
   
As the carriage slid to a graceful halt Jaime noticed that the matched horses in front of him dazzled in the moonlight, their coats of such a pure white that in comparison even the virgin snow looked dirty. So transfixed was he by the beasts, the like of which he had never seen before, that Jaime found he could only stare like an awkward child when a woman finally exited the carriage.  
   
As soon as Jaime recognized the fair skin, silver hair, and ice cold eyes that belonged to a member of the Targaryen royal family, he dropped into a bow. "Your grace?" Jaime questioned. Though he had been in Kings Landing recently Jaime did not remember the tall, slender lady cloaked in snow.  
   
The Snow Queen laughed as the golden knight kissed her hand, a painfully delicate sound like shattering glass. It was the same sound that frozen lakes make before they crack and drown the travellers who endeavour to cross them. The icy temperature of her skin surprised Jaime; burying under his own skin, invisible tendrils wrapping around his slowly freezing heart, trying to squeeze the life out of him. But after a moment his breathing returned to normal and the cold around him did not seem so unpleasant.  
   
"May I have your name good Ser?" The Snow Queen asked softly, "For I have only ventured South in search of brave warriors, knights noble and true, to serve as part of my Queensguard. Could it be that I am addressing such a man?"  
   
Jaime's heart skipped a beat as the magic mirror began to relish the cold, pushing pride and vanity to the surface. "Ser Jaime Lannister, your grace. The youngest knight ever to be admitted into the guard."  
   
The Snow Queen widened her pale blue-violet eyes, a slow smile carrying across her beautiful face. "You must have done something very gallant indeed to be granted that accolade."  
   
With the mirror clouding his heart and mind, Jaime did not realise how all the important decisions in his life had been made by someone else, instead replying with a wry lopsided smile, "That's what I've been told, your grace."  
   
She laughed again, stepping close enough to reward his courage with a kiss to his cheek. For any other monarch, the touch would have screamed of impropriety but, as her lips pressed against his skin, Jaime could not think why such a gift should not be freely given.  
   
"I think I will make you my Lord Commander", The Snow Queen whispered as if to herself, encouraging a spellbound Jaime closer towards her carriage. With each step he forgot not only Tarth and the girl he had fought and taught and loved, but his sweet sister too.  
   
"Are you taking me to Kings Landing?" Jaime asked as he settled himself down into the snowy bearskins that covered the inside of the silver carriage.  
   
"Not at all, dear knight. I have need for you in The Haunted Forest."  
   
And with a signal Jaime did not see, the horses burst into a gallop, heading ever further north.


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never underestimate the power of a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slight delay in posting this chapter, I had planned on posting yesterday but life conspired against me.
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments and although this update is a little exposition heavy and has the need to suspend disbelief, I hope this next chapter is as enjoyable as the last two :)

At first, not a day would go by where Brienne wouldn't think of Jaime. He had been part of her life for so very long it seemed strange to imagine a time when he hadn't slept in the chamber opposite hers, when their summers hadn't been spent on half a hundred knightly quests and their winters sparring like warriors at The Wall.  
   
But as the deep blue oceans surrounding Tarth froze for the first time in a hundred years, cutting them off from the warring mainland, Brienne began to grow in both mind and body. Despite a number of children on the island, it was Tarth's master of arms, Ser Goodwin, who quickly became her most trusted friend and advisor. The man paid little attention to her buck teeth, unfeminine build or growing eligibility; instead choosing to focus on her burgeoning skills with sword and mace.  
   
The waters had only just begun to thaw when an unkindness of ravens brought dark tidings to the peaceful island.   
   
While Tarth had been hibernating, Kings Landing had been burning. A war for love causing more damage than one fuelled by the quest for power. And it was wildfire, a weapon favoured by The Mad King himself, that had been the turning point. More and more birds filled the sky that day, all but blotting out the sun, bringing letters that told of how the Targaryen dynasty had destroyed itself in one night of fire and blood and a Baratheon usurper now sat on the Iron Throne. For Brienne, coming up on her twelfth name day, one king was no different to any other. Her father would have to bend the knee but she was still a child, not yet a flowered maid, and until then her days would be as they always were. She would fight and learn and forget.  
   
Though when the news of Tywin Lannister's demise finally reached them, the dark wings that carried confirmation of Jaime's fatal bravery was not far behind. As the tears she promised herself she would never cry for him ran down her face, realisation dawned on Brienne stronger than the sunrise after the longest days of winter.  
   
The golden knight was truly lost to her.   
   
Jaime was never coming home.  
   
   
Leagues away the new Queen mourned the loss of her father and brother as if they had both died bravely in battle, deftly hiding the fact that Jaime had disappeared somewhere on the road from Riverrun and reached neither the Kingsguard or her bed. It didn't matter now; there was few left who knew the truth. The bannermen were told stories, stories of vigils and snowfall, stories of an honourable golden knight who stood by his King, stories of a brutal betrayal. She made Jaime a hero, the Seven Kingdoms eating up the tales like greedy children, as her own heart turned to stone. Although history may have been written by the victors, Cersei Lannister would never feel anything but loss.  
   
   
For almost seven moons after the world shifted Selwyn Tarth gave his daughter free rein to do as she wished. She was a willfully stubborn child but disobedience was not part of her sweet nature, so there was happily little change to her normal routines. After she had cried herself dry without her knight to soothe the very real fears away, he vowed to save Brienne the further heartache of learning how he had years ago planned to seal their noble bloodline with that of House Lannister. But neither that small mercy nor the pride he felt at seeing her become a squire in all but name meant he could overlook her future, or the future guardianship of the island, for much longer.  
   
Brienne was nervous and uncomfortable in the dress Septa Roelle made her wear on the day she was to meet her betrothed. Jaime's easy laugh echoed in her head as she took slow steps towards the Great Hall, while she felt her brother's watchful smile following behind. It would have been too easy to turn, for her to pick up her silken skirts and run along the same secret passageways she had shared with the two ghosts who still haunted Evenfall Hall. But knowing her duty to her family, Brienne calmed herself with a deep breath as the doors opened and she was announced.  
   
"Lady Brienne of Tarth."  
   
Trembling, Brienne fell over her tongue as she tried to greet the young lord who regarded her like one would size up a broodmare. The red haired man laughed bitterly, no taller than she but kissed by fire, Jaime's voice in her head sounding unsure whether to laugh along, growl protectively or scream in heartache.   
   
"My father lied, it seems, My Lady, for even if I was to blow out all the candles in the bedchamber you would still be by far the ugliest thing I've ever seen." He threw down the single red rose he held in surrender, "And that will be all you'll ever get from me. Or any other man I would think."  
   
Brienne's thoughts were silenced as Ronnet Connington stormed from the hall, cursing the seven hells that his family was not important enough to warrant a match with a proper young lady. In the stories Brienne had clung to as a young child, the maiden's were never rejected, never left fighting off tears as servants looked on, unsure whether or not to offer comfort. Their suitors were brave and just, though above everything else they were good. Even with her sheltered view of the world, it seemed to Brienne that there was little of that goodness now left in the world. Little by little she was beginning to believe that should she ever become a true knight, she would be one of the few who still wanted to hold to the right code of honour. Her brother would have stood by her side, should he have made into adulthood, and for a time Jaime was as perfect as if the Warrior himself had carved him out of gold and granted him leave in Westeros. But eventually he too had changed and was taken from her.  
   
She ran all the way to her father's rooms where he would see to the troubles of the small folk of Tarth, barely pausing for breath as Septa Roelle called for her to slow down. The unshed tears in Brienne's eyes made familiar places blur around her but still she ran on.  
   
The heavy door to the council room was no longer a burden and she swung it open, forgetting to knock and surprising the exiting shepherds.   
   
"Father..."  
   
Brienne was too big now to sit on his lap as she had once done, so she dropped to the floor to lean against his legs like one of their many hounds. His large hand cradled her head gently, forcing her to look him in the eye.  
   
"She is nothing but an ugly, spoilt child", Septa Roelle's voice was as harsh as the winter wind, "My Lord, you should have given her to the Lannister boy when you had the chance. I doubt she will ever find a husband after that."  
   
"Jaime?" Brienne sounded far younger than her years, scared and sad.  
   
"It was nothing but a jest, sweetling", Selwyn soothed, bidding her Septa to leave the room. "You do understand why you are to be betrothed, do you not?"  
   
Brienne nodded solemnly. In her mind there was nothing more important than doing the right thing.  
   
Her father sighed, “I do not wish to loose you but I must, though it seems today is not that day."  
   
"Would you tell me a story?"  
   
There was a smile across her father's face before he began one of her childhood favourites; a story of a dragon lord rescuing his true love from a terrible curse, but Brienne stopped him before he could go any further. There had been Stark men on the island recently, full of wintry wonder, and they had made her long for a different tale.  
   
"The Snow Queen please."  
   
By that time the tale had become as familiar and comforting as the sea air of Tarth itself, but as it had been so long since Selwyn had spun such a story every word felt brand new. He told of how Her Grace would steal away brave knights to stay forever young, beautiful and frozen, in her palace beyond The Wall. Although, should a champion present themself and be found pure and just, then the knight could be released and returned to his loved ones left behind.   
   
Brienne knew that the words held little truth, but still the tale stayed with her deep into her slumbers. Since she was less of the daughter her father had been granted and more of the son he had lost, perhaps she too could become a great champion. With sword in hand, Brienne would be better than her storybook maidens and become the very epitome of a just and brave knight instead. But she could not stop herself from dreaming of the only man she wished she could have saved.  
   
Cloaked in red and gold she remembered him as he was and thought of chaste embraces shared before the gods, of his hair and his hands and his eyes, and when she finally awoke it was as a true maid of Tarth.  
   
And although her fantasies of Jaime began to fade while the sun shined, it would be years before Brienne would dream of another.  
   
   
On the year of her fourteenth name day, men and women alike flooded the island with music and laughter. For it was summer once more and it was always summer in the songs. The youngest lord of Storm's End, King Robert's brother, was touring the Seven Kingdoms and his arrival brought a sense of joy and romance back to Tarth. Lord Renly did not hesitate to treat Brienne in a way befitting a maid of noble birth, even if she was in plate and boiled leather the first time they met.  
   
The days that followed were full of banquets and jousts. Brienne was not yet brave enough to show her worth in such a tournament but she watched intently, knowing that the time would come.   
   
The feast that was called to crown the Queen of Love and Beauty was such an unusual occasion on Tarth that Brienne was forced to leave the comfort of her armour behind for the evening. In a dress for the first time since meeting with Connington, there had been no more suitors after it was learnt Tarth was a prize but Brienne herself was not, Renly led her in a gentle dance despite the great height difference that left her towering over the beautiful lord.  
   
Her heart pounded wildly as she stumbled around the hall, apologising for her lack of grace and pleasantries, though Renly would not hear of such things, ignoring the glares of prettier girls who would get their turn in his arms later.  
   
In the end, it wouldn't be a betrothal that would cause Selwyn to loose his daughter, but Brienne's noble wish to dedicate herself into the service of Lord Renly. There were whispers of succession lines, for it was well known that the young Queen was as icy and barren as the North itself, and if such a day arrived where Renly found himself with a kingdom to rule, Brienne hoped she would have proved herself honourable enough to become one of the seven closest to her new liege lord.  
   
Though Septa Roelle tried to argue against the decision to let the Baratheons foster Brienne at Storm's End. Despite her title, the Maid of Tarth was no lady and would not know how to behave appropriately in the company of real ones. She knew not how to sew or dance or simper like a little bird but Brienne had not yet found a melody she couldn't mimic and there was even a certain grace in the way she spun with a blade in her hand.  
   
As her father bid her to be good, to trust her heart, she held him tight, but did not realise it would be for the last time.  
   
   
It would not be until after Brienne broke a few bones along with her second true betrothal, after she had learnt of the bet for her maidenhead and after Renly had decided to marry, that she found herself missing the calm sapphire blue waters of home more than ever.   
   
Storm's End was not like any place in songs or stories, but even in it's brutality Shipbreaker Bay had become one of her favourite places to spend the time between morning and afternoon drills. Brienne had never been afraid of how close she would get to the cliffs edge, as she had learned to swim long before she had become comfortable astride a horse, but the water beneath her offered little comfort for her sorrow. The waves broke on the rocks below, swirling the blue and green waters, and for a moment she wondered if Jaime had somehow drowned because it felt to Brienne as if it was his eyes staring back at her from the depths.  
   
"Do you see him child? The one you lost."  
   
Brienne jumped back from the cliff, turning to see an old wildling woman behind her. She had appeared along with the many Stark camp followers that were due to return to Winterfell after the tournament for Lord Renly's betrothal, and though the wenches and whores had been whispering for days about the woman, Brienne had so far paid her little attention.  
   
"I...” Brienne glanced back to look at the water but the vision was gone, "I don't know."  
   
"The others know."  
   
Brienne nodded, closing her eyes. She had lost so many in her sixteen years that it would not be difficult to notice that she was still in mourning for some.  
   
"The others know", the woman repeated, "The Others know."  
   
"The Others?" Brienne was wary, careful as she realised the meaning behind the words. "My fri... father used to tell me stories of them as a child."  
   
"You are still a child, still a maid. They think I do not know, cannot hear their whisperings, cannot hear what they were planning for you but I know. I see you. Brienne, Maid of Tarth, motherless, brotherless, friendless but not without love."  
   
"What... do you know?"  
   
 _The Others know_  
The Others know  
Silver and gold, secrets hidden, stories told  
A Queen in the North, A Queen in the South  
You'll find your answers through the Dragon's mouth  
   
"The dragons are all gone. They are nothing but stories."  
   
"You are merely looking, child, you do not yet see."  
   
Brienne had never uttered her next words out loud but something about the wildling woman was beginning to put her at ease. "He served a king bravely and he died. Jaime," there was a sob coming and she swallowed it quickly away. The golden knight no longer haunted her days or nights. He was now just a confused collection of memories. "Jaime is gone. He is with the dragons and the Others and all the other stories."  
   
"Trust in your heart. Not all that is lost is truly gone forever. Sometimes they just need to be found again. The Others know, the Others know."  
   
"The Others do not know me", she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the deceptive emerald depths and when Brienne turned back the wildling woman had gone.  
   
The rest of the afternoon was filled with glints of gold, curls of laughter, green, green, _green_ , that made her turn her head and loose her normally steady footing in the practice yard. Margaery Tyrell, Renly's betrothed and as fair a maid as any should be, took pity on Brienne as she passed with her lovesick ladies and witness how the blue knight had fallen.  
   
The Maester could find nothing wrong with Brienne as he examined her. There were no cuts or breaks and, claiming exhaustion, he gave her a potion and bid her to sleep.  
   
As soon as Brienne closed her eyes she was walking down a dark hallway, a white door shining in front of her like a sailor's beacon. She had never visited a castle such as this, but something kept her hands from reaching for a weapon.  
   
The door opened silently and Jaime's voice called to her, "Blue is a good colour on you, My Lady. It goes well with your eyes."  
   
She glanced down to find herself in a well-fitted blue gown, a blush rose and she attempted to move her eyes from where they had fallen. "You look..." Like a story she wanted to say but even in her dream the words got stuck. He was barely a day older than when he had left, golden armour shining in the sunlight and a white cloak at his back. Jaime had never once been this vivid, this alive in any of her dreams before.  
   
He smiled and there was no hint of a joke on his lips. "Close the door and come here."  
   
Brienne hesitated, almost afraid of what her mind wanted to give her.  
   
"Brienne of Tarth", Jaime beamed like her name was something he wanted to savour, "I have a gift for you." He offered it to her, something precious wrapped in folds of crimson velvet.  
   
She took the bundle from him, cradling it to her meagre chest like a babe. It was warm, far warmer than the steel she retrieved from the depths of the fabric should have been. The blade was as dark as a long winter night and Brienne had never come across a weapon like it. Eyes widening, she hesitantly cut the air, swinging and twirling as if getting used to the lack of weight in her hand. There was a hidden song in the steel but it would not sing for her yet.  
   
"Ser Jaime?"   
   
"You have your quest my lady." Jaime touched her cheek with gentle fingertips when she did not respond. "Haven't your years as a knight taught you anything? A champion must always rescue their fair maiden love.” He paused, stroking her cheek tenderly, “Come and find me.”   
   
"Where ...?"  
   
He was gone before the question could be asked, the touch becoming a wet fall of snow over her skin, but the wildling's chant was back.   
   
"The Others know. The Others know."  
   
It was a fool's errand but if Jaime did indeed still draw breath, then it seemed there was only one place he could be.  
   
That morning she begged her leave to escort Lady Stark back home to Winterfell.  
   
To The Wall.   
   
To Jaime.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long lost friend, a princess and a raven.

Lady Catelyn was not as cruel or petty as many of the other noble women Brienne had met since she had come of age and would often find herself riding alongside the older woman as they made their journey north. Brienne did not need to rely on words she could not find as she listened to Lady Catelyn speak of the children whom she loved dearly and how she had come to be in Storm's End, bringing a wedding present to Renly from Winterfell while her husband was acting on the King's behalf in far off places. The days passed pleasantly enough and Brienne began to respect Lady Catelyn's strength, not that of a knight but of a mother, and her innate kindness.  
   
Upon arriving at Winterfell it was made clear to Brienne that she was welcome to stay as long as she wished. Lady Catelyn was a gracious host, the castle full of maternal warmth Brienne had not realised she had missed, but knights did not give up on a quest so easily, even when faced with the prospects of a soft bed and regular meals.  
   
She spent just one night with the Starks, but in that short time she gained two tiny shadows in the form of a pair of near identical little boys. Their antics reminded her of a time when she had followed Jaime around intently and when they wanted stories she told them all her favourites until the candles had burnt out and Robb and Jon were fast asleep.  
   
The next day Brienne was bundled up in layers of furs, for it was always winter beyond The Wall, and went forth into a world of snow and ice to look for Jaime.  
   
She chose to stay off The Kingsroad as much as possible as she travelled through the increasingly frigid forests. Although Westeros was now at peace, the many years she had spent with Renly's men had taught her to be ever watchful. Her night under Lady Catelyn's protection had been the first Brienne had slept soundly since leaving Tarth, for a shieldmaiden such as herself had more than one kind of honour to loose and the roads were still filled with many an outlaw.  
   
It was following the third sunrise since leaving Winterfell behind that Brienne began to move beneath the ever increasing shadow of The Wall. The structure was even more magnificent than the visiting Northmen had promised; stretching so far into the sky that the Night's Watch patrolling along the top appeared to be no bigger than children's toys to her eyes.   
   
And it was that very same day that the raven appeared, the large bird flying through the exposed branches and landing abruptly on Brienne's shoulder like it had always belonged there. Head cocked, the raven cawed and asked, "Corn?"  
   
Brienne had none and although there was some surprise at the bird speaking actual words, she did offer it a few crumbs of bread.   
   
"Where did you come from?" She asked, mostly to herself, as the raven ruffled it's feathers and asked for more. "Did you come from The Wall?"  
   
"North. North."  
   
It pecked at her fingers impatiently, searching for food, but said no more. However, the bird still stayed with Brienne throughout that day and into the next.  
   
As she travelled further north, Brienne had come across fewer and fewer dwellings, the land was fertile enough but neither Stark bannermen or wildlings had seen fit to call the area home. So when she saw smoke rising from a cottage up ahead, she quickly reined her horse away before she got too close.  
   
"Why?" The raven asked suddenly, digging it's clawed feet painfully into her shoulder.  
   
"Danger", Brienne replied, not finding it odd that she was attempting a conversation with the creature. Her father had once told her of how sorcerers and witches alike would train birds and beasts to guide lost travellers to their destinations, and although she did not know where she was heading, Brienne was sure she was not lost.   
   
"Live."  
   
Sighing as the raven screamed the word again and again Brienne continued on her original path, reassured that she had everything she needed to defend herself should the dwelling turn out to be a trap of some sort.  
   
"Live. Snow. Live."  
   
There was a response on the tip of her tongue but as the door to the little house opened, a golden flash caught her eye. For a moment her heart sped with anxiety and longing, reminded of the white door and cloak in the dream that had sent her north, but the man who looked up at her only bore a slight resemble to the one she was looking for.  
   
"Truth", the raven crowed as Brienne urged her horse into a trot, curiosity finally getting the better of her.  
   
"Seven hells", the man swore as she came closer, "Little Brienne all grown up." He took a hold of her horse as she considered the disadvantages of dismounting in such a strange place. "You do not remember me then? Of course not, you were nothing but a child when I delivered my cousin into your Lord father's care."  
   
Brienne could recall little of the day Jaime arrived; only that he had, least of all the men who had accompanied him. "You are a Lannister?"  
   
"A long time ago yes, but now I am simply Daven."  
   
His name was familiar despite the years and Brienne thought she might have read it in a letter or heard it in a tale. "You are a long way from Casterly Rock, Ser."  
   
"As are you from Tarth, my lady."  
   
Even after all the time on the road, Brienne had still not found a way to explain what and why she was travelling so far North. In fact, she had not even thought about having to lie until she reached The Wall and needed to ask for safe passage through. Daven may not have been Jaime but as he stared up at her inquisitively, it seemed they did share a certain character flaw that left her grasping for words.  
   
"Wall?" The raven prompted with a cocked head, as if it could read her mind, allowing Brienne a moment to come up with a hastily created tale.  
   
"I was escorting Lady Stark home from a tournament at Storm's End and I... wanted to see The Wall for myself."  
   
Daven barked out a laugh and she was torn between thinking it cruel or friendly, "Jaime told it true then, you are by far the worst liar I have ever met. This country is not for the faint of heart." At the flinch and blush Brienne could not hide, he continued softly, "Forgive me, I did not mean for that remark to cause you any distress. He was as much family to you as he was to me."  
   
She smiled sadly as the raven finally left her shoulder, circling overhead as it began a slow climb. It was talking again, though Brienne heard nothing but one thing.  
   
" _Truth_ "  
   
"You have caused me no pain, Ser Daven." She had long since learned that words were only wind and though the Northern blasts bitterly tried to rip through her furs, it had not yet hurt her. "But I do not think you would believe me if I told you the truth."  
   
"I have been living in the snow for a long time; you would be surprised by what I now believe."  
   
"How...?"  
   
Brienne's question was cut off as she watched the raven dive out of the sky as if it had been snatched, spinning and falling, until it gently landed on the shoulder of a young woman who had just exited the sparse wood with an armful of kindling. Her hair was almost as dark as the bird's wings and though she wore no crown or jewels, Brienne could sense her nobility in the very air.   
   
"Queen. Queen."   
   
She pushed the raven away, walking towards the pair who stood conversing in the snow. "The Others take you", she spat at the bird, "I am no Queen."  
   
"Queen. Snow." It hopped back to Brienne, the loud caws between words sounding like laughter. "Live."  
   
"Is she a crow?" The wildling Princess regarded the newcomer carefully, for that is what Brienne had decided she must be, glaring at Daven though her expression was not without love. "She looks like a crow."  
   
"I would wager Brienne has no desire to join the Night's Watch my love. She has not come to return me to face judgment."  
   
Then suddenly the letter where she had read Daven’s name came back to her as if the words had been inked on the snow itself. "Did you not die?" The question was wary, overly careful. "When Kings Landing burned, your name was on the list of the dead with Jaime and his father."  
   
"Your Queen lies." The Princess purred, narrowing her sky blue eyes in disgust. "She hides behind her name and her gold and lies."  
   
"Queen", the raven agreed, "North."  
   
Brienne tried to silence the bird, who continued repeating the same six or seven words, her own words coming slow but strong. "Ser Daven, why are you hiding from the Night's Watch?"  
   
His story was not practised but it did not matter for Brienne could do little but listen in amazement. Ser Daven Lannister told of the night Jaime had disappeared, of his cousin's unusual cruelty and though half drunk on Arbor gold, the things he thought he had seen in the snow. He told of how this had been relayed to the Queen and when he still stood after the Capitol was sacked, she mercifully banished him to the Night's Watch, although other men were taken to the headsman in order to keep their silence. He told of the long winter and family and love.  
   
"And Jaime?"  
   
"The Others know if he even still lives. The cold does not distinguish between good and evil. All men can freeze", the Princess had clearly heard the tale before and remained unimpressed.  
   
"The Others know", Brienne repeated under her breath, stumbling closer to a revelation. "You'll find your answers through the dragon's mouth."  
   
"She is a crow", the beautiful façade of the Princess dropped and suddenly she was as fierce and wild as the North itself. "Only a crow would know of The Dragon's Mouth."  
   
Brienne fought for words, for she had only been repeating riddles that did not yet make sense.  
   
"There are ways through The Wall", Daven explained, calming both his Princess and Brienne in one breath. "Secret passageways into the North that were left by the Kings and Queens of old."  
   
"Queen. Queen. Queen", the raven, who had been as quiet as Brienne herself, screamed and screeched in victory.  
   
"Could you... show me the way? Through to the other side?" Brienne didn't trust herself to look anywhere but the snowy ground, feeling the piercing stare of the wildling girl on her.  
   
"You want to go North? What do you expect to find there?"  
   
 _Jaime_ , she thought but the raven once again answered for her.  
   
"Snow. Queen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and get the next few chapters up over the next couple of days, in fact I may even get Part 5 up later today.
> 
> If you've got time please do leave some feedback :)


	5. Part 5

No sooner than Daven had seen her through the Dragon's Mouth did Brienne hear the wolves begin to howl, sending uncontrollable shivers down her spine. She looked back but her guide had gone, disappearing back through the passageway to return to his wildling princess. The Haunted Forest was less than two days ride, but what Brienne would find there Daven did not know.

The raven had left her too. Although it had shown no fear when the Princess had snatched for it's neck, it could or would not ignore the loud horn that blew as if the sound was calling the bird home. Up it flew in a flurry of feathers, higher and higher until Brienne could not even see a speck on the horizon.

For Brienne the idea of The Snow Queen was nothing but a beloved story from her childhood, but for the Princess it was an unspoken, but very real, fear. She retrieved two blood black, painfully cold blades from the snow and pressed them into Brienne's hands without a word. There was magic and power in the small weapons and the near fearless shieldmaiden stored them carefully, not yet knowing just how different they were from the sword that hung at her hip.

Now, in the land beyond The Wall, Brienne was hopelessly exposed and even a multitude of swords and daggers could not help her from feeling like she would have nowhere to hide if an attack came. The black of her borrowed furs and horse stood out starkly in a world that was becoming little more than sparkling white on white. Her breath fogged in clouds as Brienne drove forward, knowing that a short ride would become a much longer walk if some strength was not preserved for the return journey. Her champion's quest would not be completed until she gave the golden knight back to what little family he had left, even if that was to the sister who had concealed the truth. For that was the way of the songs and the stories when there wasn't a helpless maiden in need of rescue. But it did not cross her mind to consider that Jaime may also now consider Tarth home as well.

As soon as the dark closed in, the snow began to swirl so thickly that Brienne could no longer see an arm’s length in any one direction. She was alone out in the wilds, of that she was sure, but exhaustion or exposure led her to believe in the vision of a silver carriage and golden armour that was granted to her through the falling flakes. Trees were beginning to line her makeshift path again, not a forest yet but certainly haunted with a half a hundred memories. Although on second glance the carriage shimmered out of sight as quickly as it had seemed to appear.

And then, Lord Renly was suddenly ahead of her, leading her horse under the branches to find sparse shelter. Shock mingled with cold and Brienne tried to speak, to tell him of the love that made her linger in Storm's End for too long, but when he turned around the figure was not Renly at all.

"Cold", Jaime muttered, his lips and eyes strangely bluer than the frozen sky had been that day. "So cold."

Brienne found her voice, but could not find a way to differentiate between truth and frozen visions. "What... who are you?"

"I am no one", Jaime smiled dangerously, "Open your eyes."

Brienne did as she was bid to find a child staring down at her from the top of a freshly snow dusted tree. Even if it had been midday instead of midnight, she did not think she would have been able to tell if the small ragged creature was a boy or a girl, a threat or a distraction. As she had often been mistaken for a man herself, due in part to her height and also the strength Ser Goodwin had encouraged her to build, Brienne began to feel a strange camaraderie with the child. Though even this sentiment did not stop her frozen hand from closing in on the hilt of her sword.

She would not have harmed an unarmed man or woman, but the thought crossed her mind as the snow was becoming too deep for the horse to run and there was little place to hide. As it was, Brienne was barely given the time to let her eyes adjust to the dark before the child jumped down from it’s resting place to land catlike on the solid ground. 

"You are but a maid", the child's voice was neither young nor old, wise nor foolish, considered nor rash. "Though that alone is not the reason why you do not belong here. If you are not of the North or the Forest, tell me from whence have you come?"

Brienne's numb fingers began to twitch around steel and the child laughed at the movement, coming closer as the eyes following Brienne faded from an expressionless black into ominous grey. "By your garb, are you not a knight? Although you would be the first maiden knight I have come across."

"I am", replied Brienne, listening to the whispers in the trees, the howling wolves and the raging wind. "And I am not."

The child looked at her seriously, shaking her head at the riddle Brienne had not meant to tell. "No one will not touch you even if you do anger me, for then I will offer you up to the red god myself."

Brienne knew of the old gods and the new, but had no knowledge of what the child spoke of. "If you will let me continue on my journey..."

"You will not see the dawn if you go on alone, for the night is dark and full of terrors."

"Your wolves?"

"Do not belong to me. They are of the Forest and I am no one." The child paused, hair growing long and thick and red before Brienne's eyes. "Although if you would be willing to share your tale, there is warmth and shelter nearby enough for us both."

"Why should I trust you?" Her hand left the blade and tightened around the reins instead.

"I may not know of what you seek but I know of loss. I once sat at the hand of a great Queen made of marble and violets. But she stole another and now I am but the humble servant of the red god. I am no one, Ser Maid, but who are you?"

Brienne frowned, considering the child’s offer, but since she had little hope of continuing on alone, she started to tell her story. And once Brienne started talking she found she could not stop. The changeable child joined her on the back of the horse, trying on personas as quickly as a real girl may dress up in her mother's gowns, nodding occasionally as Brienne told the truth as she had come to believe it.

As her tale finished, the mouth of a cave unexpectedly opened from the ice, carved more by nature then by magic, but there was still a frisson of the latter in the air. Great cracks ran along the outer surface and yet still it stood with no indications of collapse. By a raging fire that filled the space with heat, Brienne was offered bread and salt, guest right as important that far north as it was in the south, while a great soup was boiled and rabbits were roasted.

"Do you always sleep with your blade, Ser Maid?" The child laughed, as Brienne nervously glanced upwards at the great number of chattering doves, crows and ravens lodging in the very top of the cave. "Those creatures will not harm you. They once belonged to her grace but have become so fearful and old that they will now not even carry messages back to The Wall."

"Her grace?"

"Your sword, Ser Maid", the child pointed at the ground, "For although the red god sees all, it is the frozen gods to be most feared if I was to harm you now."

Brienne placed the weapon where neither she nor the child could easily access it, close to the pot boiling on the fire, but kept the black blades hidden from her companion. "Your Queen is of the North itself? Of the snow and ice?"

"They say that her grace was once of the South, of fire and blood, but the North called to her in all its glorious beauty. The ice cooled her skin, and her blood, and she froze. There is no love in her heart or those closest to her, for she surrounds herself only with dead men and brave, broken knights."

"And the one that she stole?" Brienne took up a seat by the fire, not allowing the joy now threatening in her own heart to become a betrayal of her feelings in front of the child.

"He is a knight of summer, of sun gold and grass green, a man grown but a child still in many ways." 

"Jaime", Brienne breathed in relief, for in all her dreams and the raven's promises there had been no word of a lie. If the end of the stories were also true, she now only had to prove herself a true champion and he could be released from the icy grip of the Snow Queen.

"He will not remember you or any of those he once loved. For during my service I remembered little of the world beyond the castle walls. And his heart was already half frozen when she took him."

Brienne bid the child to share more about the Queen and the golden knight, but there was nothing more to be told. Instead she was invited to stay and rest her eyes until the worst of the night was over. And even though Brienne had been promised that no danger would befall her whilst she was inside the cave, she still could not find peaceful sleep in such a place where the shadows grew longer with each breath.

 

Morning arrived quicker than Brienne had expected, scrambling to her feet as the child who was no longer a child hovered over her. "The spirits are dancing, Ser Maid", she said, and Brienne could now clearly see that a noble maiden was the child's latest disguise. "It would be wise for us to leave before the wolves return from their hunt. They do not enjoy tales from the South as much as I do."

Now warm and partly rested, the correction came easily. "My name is Brienne of Tarth."

"You offer me a powerful thing, Brienne of Tarth, but it would be wise to keep your name to yourself in future in case someone would wish to use it against you. However, in return for your gift I will be willing to take you to the castle gatehouse. But no further, Ser Maid, as neither the Queen nor her guards care for my presence anymore."

The child offered up meagre provisions, dried meat and stale bread, but Brienne was grateful for the small act of kindness. Looking up she noticed that the birds had left their perches but as the child whistled into the twilight they all returned, a large antlered stag following in their wake. Staring at the beast that stood shoulder to shoulder with her horse, Brienne was reminded of Lord Renly's standard. Though it wasn't Baratheon stags or Stark wolves that pushed her forward again, but the memory of her perfect golden lion. 

Beyond the glow of the still burning fire, the sky remained painted in shades of grey but it wasn't long until the world burst into light. Dawn would stay out of reach for a while but the swirls of royal purple, sapphire blue and emerald green were enough to lead the way deeper into The Haunted Forest.

"The spirits are dancing for you Brienne of Tarth. You are being watched over."

The trees lining their makeshift path were becoming dense, the evergreen branches blocking out golden rays that gently kissed the blue away. "The rest of this journey is yours alone, Ser Maid", the child glanced across as the gatehouse loomed, hair and eyes becoming colourless. "Though if you do manage to find your love, there is a captain at Eastwatch by the Sea who can return you to your island. A coin and two words are all you need: _Valar morghulis_ "

Brienne blushed deeply at the assumption, holding out her hand for the foreign coin to drop into. "Valar morghulis. Valar morghulis. Valar morghulis." She looked up to see the child and reindeer floating away across the snow. "What does it mean?"

"All men must die. But you are not a man, Ser Maid."


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I did originally want to post the rest of this over a few days, I'm doing what I should have done on Halloween and am posting the last few chapters together.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading and commenting. I hope the ending is as much a fairytale as you've been expecting!
> 
> And Brienne's first task in this chapter is a slightly modified version of one in the first Harry Potter book.

As Brienne got closer and closer; the gatehouse seemed to shrink before her very eyes, until anyone who wished to enter would have had to do so on their hands and knees. The horse that had carried her so steadfastly from Winterfell, unafraid of either the day or night, suddenly spooked and reared as an amber eye appeared at one of the windows. Gracelessly dismounting before she fell, Brienne prayed that the kind hearted beast would find it's way back to either the child or reindeer and not fall victim to predators as she let it go. 

The rest of the journey was indeed hers and hers alone.

A blast of warm air hit her back as the door opened, raising her hackles, and Brienne turned to find an old man watching from the doorway of the tiny house. His eyes were slit like a cat's, darkening despite the fully realised dawn as he beckoned her closer.

Something dangerous and magical audibly crackled in the air, half words she could not make sense of, though the intention was clear; it was not just the presence of the changeable child her grace did not care for. Brienne was reminded of the warnings of the wildling witch as she forced her feet to move, trying not to just look at the grandfatherly old man but see the truth hidden beneath.

"You are a long way from home, child", he called out in a surprisingly familiar voice. "It has been many a moon since a traveller has arrived at my door, for there are dangers this far north that even noble and true knights cannot avoid."

Though Brienne had been prepared to tell of her journey if it would grant her safe passage into the castle, as shock and fear made her aware that it was her father's voice the magician had stolen, she knew she would have to tell a different tale. "A child brought me here."

The magician looked displeased, but still gestured her towards the heat coming from inside the house. "It has been a long time indeed since a child's voice was heard in the forest. You have a trusting heart but we must also see if it is both wise and brave."

"I have come..."

"I know why you have come but do you know what it is that you truly want? Many have come to greet the Queen of Snow and Ice but all have failed her tests. We need to know if you are worthy."

Brienne kept her head up and eyes wide open as she crawled further into the furnace, her blades ever close, though there would be little time or space to draw them should the magician chose to attack. As it was, he seemed more amused by her bravery, muttering away like he was talking to someone who wasn't really there.

Once fully inside Brienne was surprised to find she could stand up quite easily without having to even duck her head. The diminutive outer appearance was yet another trick as the room dripped with a wealthy opulence that no lord or lady could have hoped to gain. The walls and floor were of a pure white marble, cracked with black veins and trimmed with gold.

The magician quickly closed the only door into the room behind him, blocking her exit, but when he re-opened it a moment later the real world had vanished. From her position across the room Brienne stared into the dark passageway, unsure what she should do next.

"Your name if you would be so kind", he asked as he pointed for her to step through.

Brienne remembered what the child had said about the power of names and bit her tongue even as she moved towards the dark.

"A silent champion", the old man mused, "Although silence will not help you now, only what you choose will decide the outcome." And with that he shut and bolted the door, leaving Brienne in the dark once more.

There was a torch dimly burning up ahead and Brienne inched carefully along the wall until she could take it in her hand. A shocked breath left her lips as her skin made contact with the wood and the chamber burst into light, illuminating and emphasising the perfect circle of the room she now stood in. There was a single small table in front of her, decorated by seven vials of liquid that stood in a contraption she recognised from the maester's chambers back on Tarth.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, Brienne noticed that each vial had taken on one of the colours of the rainbows that used to decorate the skies after a summer storm ravaged her island home, like the one that had appeared on the day Jaime changed, like that of the cloaks of Lord Renly's promised guard.

A voice laughed in her head, high and spiteful and unfamiliar.

" _Danger lies at every turn however take heed of these warnings and you will learn._

_The vial that you seek stands alone but what you miss most will lead you home._

_Noble houses rise and fall though their banners always fly, beware of your allies for they will make you cry._

_Twins will kill you, side by side, though in the shadow of one the truth does hide._

_And those furthest North and furthest South will do no harm but leave a sweet taste in your mouth._ "

The voice laughed again as Brienne spun around searching for it's origin but there was no way in or out. The door had disappeared with the magician.

" _Choose_ ", it told her, " _Or remain here forever_."

Brienne had always hated riddles. Her father had said that they were fool's tricks and Septa Roelle insisted she was too slow to make sense of the words. Jaime had told her a few when she was very small, back when nightmares had still been a regular occurrence.

"May I hear the words again?"

The voice almost sighed but gave Brienne a second chance to prove herself. Only one would move her forward to whatever horrors lurked beyond the stone and marble, and one would give her leave to return home. The rest would kill her, either a quick death by poison or a slow, cold one through starvation and exposure.

Her breath was quickening, as she quickly dismissing the red and golden yellow colours of House Lannister as those most likely to end her life prematurely. The blue vial was as vibrant as the sapphire waters of Tarth itself and although there was a pang in her heart at seeing such a colour again, it too was disregarded. Orange appeared to be too close to the yellow it stood alongside, though next to the likely poison was a colour that brought with it a flicker of hope. There was the beginning of something once more in her head but Brienne brushed it aside, snatching and drinking deeply of the green vial. 

Her heart stuttered to a stop as the chamber began to spin, but it was the face of the Crone and not the Stranger nodding in approval above her. Brienne closed her eyes in response and waited for her world to cease it's movement.

A warm, fresh breeze blew over her skin as the marble disappeared from under her, leaving only the prickle of summer grass in it’s wake. Though it wasn't the beauty of Tarth that greeted her as Brienne re-opened her eyes, but the harshness of Storm's End. Lord Renly stood over her in shadow, blocking out the sun as he offered her a hand in assistance.

"You are a skilled fighter, Lady Brienne", Renly spoke to her as he always had, gentle and considered, overlooking her womanly imperfections and focusing on her warrior's strength instead. "One day soon I fear you may best us all."

In all the years Brienne had known him, Renly had never once fought in the yard with his men. At the time, she had not found this odd, for he was the sun and she merely the blue knight in orbit, dreaming of a time when his presence would be closed and focused solely on her. But now there was a sense of unease building as Brienne rose to her feet.

Renly's eyes remained kind though, his arm bent at the elbow as if he was about to escort his future wife into a royal feast. "Will you walk with me, my lady?"

Brienne nodded, blushing as her large hand circled his forearm, all feelings of discomfort forgotten in his gaze. Armour rubbed against armour, the metal sparking though it should not have reacted so but Brienne kept her eyes firmly fixed on the horizon so she did not have to look on her lord's handsome face.

"My advisors tell me that we may soon be at war."

"My lord?"

He laughed, good natured to a fault, "I sometimes forget that you are in some ways still a child", his hand touched hers and Brienne shivered at the contact, "It has been many years since the sack and the kingdom remains without a true heir."

"The Queen is still young."

"For now. Though neither youth nor beauty will remain forever and my brother has already grown tired. We must now make plans for our future, Lady Brienne."

The breeze was slowly becoming stronger as their path took them away from the cacophony of daily life and closer to the same cliffs where Brienne had conversed with the wildling witch. She blinked rapidly as Renly, stronger than she ever would have thought possible, tightened his grip on her arm and encouraged her to stop.

"Lady Brienne", he repeated, turning so she was forced to look at him and notice a look in his eyes that she had never witnessed before. Her heart sped with anticipation, waiting for his next words. "I can think of no one I would wish to have by my side more than you."

She found she could not breathe, though the thundering in her ears that sounded distinctly like the roaring crash of ocean waves screamed that she had not yet met the Stranger.

Renly took her hand again, raising it carefully to his lips. "I would name you a knight of the Rainbow Guard, for the Iron Throne has never let any bearer wield power gently and your strength and loyalty will be needed more than ever. Brienne the Blue. Brienne the Beauty."

He murmured the hateful nickname like a lovers caress and she felt her knees weaken a little, the reaction betraying her true title as Maid of Tarth. The cloak he produced a moment later seemed to be from out of the air itself; blue, as he had promised, though the decorative silver moon and stars made it hers long before his. In fact, had it not been for the colourful silken lining, which would have been a dangerous beacon in battle, and the Baratheon stag pin there, would have been nothing to distinguish the cloak of the Rainbow Guard from the one in her quarters.

Brienne was silently bid to kneel in the rough yellowing weeds that covered the cliff side, head lowered as she waited for Renly to sweep the cloak over her shoulders. Time slowed to a stop, suspended as the expected kiss of material did not come.

Instead there was a careful pressure digging through layers of armour and boiled leather, branding her skin in fearful flame. "Together, love could bring about a new era of peace. All you must do, Brienne, is swear yourself to my cause", the pressure lifted and Renly stroked her freckled cheek with the back of his hand, forcing Brienne to raise her head. "If you can forsake all others in your affections and stay loyal to your king, you will be rewarded."

A trapped word rumbled in the back of her throat, almost soundless as his presence loomed ever closer. "Brienne, my lady, will you come back and follow me into the unknown?"

Although a part of her wished to stay locked in the dreamlike reality forever, Brienne shook her head as the realisation came that there was someone else she would rather stand by when the world shuddered to an end. Fire or ice, dragons or Others, Jaime Lannister had and always would have her sword.

And her heart.

"I cannot, my lord", she whispered, noticing that the light was slowly disappearing around her, shadows growing longer and longer. "I... there is another. He needs me and I... I love him."

A clap of thunder rang out and quicker than she could blink; Renly and Storm's End disappeared to become cold marble and hard stone once more.

" _He offered you love and a place as one of the most powerful women in the Seven Kingdoms and yet you denied it all_ ", the voice was back, amused but impressed. _For that purity I will share with you one truth. Your golden knight has found his position with the Snow Queen very much to his liking these past few years. He has wanted for nothing, but that is only due to there being a splinter of glass in his eye. And in his heart. If you cannot remove these, the Snow Queen will forever retain her power over him._ "

"How...?" Brienne asked, laughter echoing in her head, but as she looked up the marble ceiling was becoming as blue as the sky outside.

The door reappeared in the wall once more as the voice faded to nothing, signalling the end of the Snow Queen's trials. Or so Brienne believed. For the sight that greeted her was not that of the magician's chamber but the castle gardens instead.

Forgetting the gloves she had removed earlier before an unnaturally warm fire, Brienne found her feet and ran on as fast as she could.

The snow was falling as thickly as it had in the forest, an entire regiment of flakes, but they did not only come from the skies. Brienne drew her sword as she lost sight of the castle in the distance, blind to everything but the snow that seemed to dance along the ground in patterns that she did not recognise. It was not just a trick of the light that caused each one to grow in size as she got closer, all but blocking her forward motion. Brienne felt a strange prickle at the back of her neck, someone or something was moving towards her. Turning in circles, spinning like the flakes that were becoming living creatures, she remembered the lessons Ser Goodwin and Jaime had taught her and, though her exhales were becoming nothing more than smoke out of her mouth, Brienne was prepared.

The approaching beings made so little noise that she thought they must be floating over the calf deep snow, though Brienne did not miss the subtle shift in the air that preceded their arrival. Without the full use of her eyes, trapped in a pocket of calm within the magical blizzard, there was not much she could do but wait.

She did not have to wait for long.

Barely two breaths had left her lungs when the first man appeared from out of the white fog. Catching sight of the heavily armed girl, he threw back his head and let loose a wordless scream, a signal or an order to those following, the movement granting Brienne a glance at a throat that had been ripped out decades earlier.

She cursed as the culmination of years of riddles and whispered stories stared her straight in the eye. The Others were real. The Others were foot soldiers for the Snow Queen. And they had found her.

She would be later asked for details, like how many of the risen dead she had managed to cut down, but after the first strike of her sword merely bounced off the scout, Brienne found she had other things to worry about than future glory. 

Her second stroke slashed through a great expanse of flesh and, despite thinking that in battle it may have felled even The White Bull himself, the nightmare did not give a moment of respite. Steel sang in her hands, blood echoing each of the notes, striking, spinning, slashing, but still it was not enough.

Her skin burned as the man's long dead hand closed around her wrist, breaking her fragile grip on the near useless sword. The cold ran through her fingers, pins and needles tingling as it felt like her blood was freezing in her veins. The man laughed, a dreadful broken noise, but Brienne had spent years making sure she would never be as helpless as any one of the maidens in her favourite tales. 

Although Brienne could now see the army of dead things walking and stumbling and crawling through the snow, even the fear of being outnumbered twenty to one did not stop her free hand from burying through layers of furs to pull out the warming black blade the Princess had gifted her. With a deep breath that froze her insides, Brienne plunged the glittering dagger into the belly of the Other holding her captive.

Had she not been in so much pain, Brienne would have sworn that she was still tucked up warmly in her childhood bed as the power of the dragonglass became apparent. Letting out a screech that pierced her eardrums, the grip on her wrist loosened as the man in front of her finally left the world in a puff of smoke.

In place of the creature there was now only a burning blade and, sending up a prayer to whichever god was listening, Brienne flung the rapidly disintegrating weapon into a group of Others that had just entered the field of battle. Two, three, four went up in a blaze of singed flesh and wordless, inhuman screaming as Brienne pulled the second gift out from her boot, falling back into position. Determined not to leave Jaime alone in the frozen wasteland to face a fate worse than death, Brienne whispered for him to stay strong as she would always do for him. 

" _Enough!_ "

The snowflakes split into thousands and thousands of pieces, the Others slowly returning from whence they came.

" _You have been judged, silent knight, and have been found wise, pure and brave. A true champion. You may now go forth and claim your prize._ "

The snow lifted completely, providing Brienne with a chance to finally look upon the magnificent hidden palace. A flash of bright, burning gold appeared in an empty window and her breath caught.

"Jaime", Brienne whispered, retrieving her sword from where it had fallen. "I am coming. I will find you my love." 

Walking on bravely she headed straight into the frozen domain of the Snow Queen.


	7. Part 7

Unaware that a blue eyed shadow from his time before snow and ice had bravely breached the Snow Queen's impregnable defences, Jaime Lannister was dreaming of home.  
   
Although the long nights belonged solely to her grace, dedicated to the command of a quietly loyal Queensguard, his days were slowly becoming his own again. However, due to the wretched piece of glass that still resided deep in his heart, Jaime never once remembered the dreams come the fall of evening. But that did not mean they were ever truly forgotten for the power of what awaited behind his eyes was more than magic could hope to extinguish forever.  
   
At first his dreams were little more than long forgotten memories or half wished for futures, focusing on secret trysts with the sister he had abandoned following a frozen kiss of fealty to another Queen. The shard of the glass that kept a hold of his heart had only worked to increase the fierce pull towards the capricious creature Jaime had willingly followed into the world. And, if his dreams held any truth, would follow into the next life with a smile on his face.  
   
But, unbeknownst to him, on the very afternoon Brienne stared into the deep green waters of Shipbreaker Bay, Jaime too was experiencing a change of heart.  
   
There had been a wildling raid on the palace that day and although the Snow Queen's thrall was always weakest when the sun was at it's highest, Jaime led his men into battle as he had a hundred times before. The wildlings may have come to expect to see a golden knight gliding around each and every battlefield amidst an army of undead, but they had yet come to anticipate the way he had been taught to fight. Jaime took two arrows to the chest that barely scratched ornate armour but he narrowly missed having his right hand cleaved off before the axe-wielding wildling general found himself without a head. Still, as he had lost a great deal of blood during the fight, it fell to the Others to drag him back to safety. The Queen's disgraced maester did what he could and left Jaime to find recovery in sleep.  
   
And Jaime found that in those moments when emeralds easily became sapphires, winter too melted into hazy island summers.   
   
He dreamt of Brienne not as she was the last time he saw her, tears threatening in her stunning eyes as wounding words formed on the tongue he no longer had any control over, but as he thought she might have become. For although it was true the passing of time did not matter now like it once had, that did not mean Jaime failed to notice the days and years beginning and ending. His loyal shadow, the stubbornly honourable child with all her freckles and growing strength, would have likely found the transition into womanhood difficult and for the first time in years, there was a flicker of true emotion as Jaime thought of her with a squalling babe occupying her hands rather than sword and shield.  
   
But there was no real desire in Jaime to picture Brienne as a mother so his dreams took him back to Tarth's training yard instead. Circling around him in tunic and breeches, her armour notable only in it's absence, Jaime could have sworn she had more of a woman's shape now. He should have been expecting the change but as the twilight shone across her face, she became almost a beauty and Jaime was forced to take a small step back in surprise. Her smile was still a little shy but as Brienne aimed her blade at his heart; she was almost a knight.  
   
"My lady", Jaime bowed, mocking neither her footwork nor her form, though words of that nature had only made Brienne stronger in the past, "May I have this dance?"  
   
She nodded and Jaime pressed the attack quickly. Brienne parried as fast as she could, turning cuts and slices away from her exposed flesh and he found her to be stronger than ever. The years on her face had translated into muscle memory and a fearlessness Jaime could not help but feel a strange sense of pride in helping to cultivate. Their swords kissed and Jaime's blood sang with every touch, like all the other opponents he had faced could not even hope to come close to her; never feeling so alive as when he was fighting, keeping the Stranger at bay with every stroke.  
   
The blades locked in the same moment their eyes did and Jaime took the chance to push on as Brienne stood transfixed but determined. The world around them seemed to disappear in that moment, leaving only the sounds of their ragged breathing to cut through a fog of denial that had plagued Jaime for too long. He suddenly realised that since the very first time he had fought against Brienne, that day her wooden sword no match for his blunted weapon, there had been no one else he would want to dance with ever again. His feet moved quicker, his heart beat faster; his blood boiled hotter when Brienne, and Brienne alone, was spinning around him looking so fierce and determined it was as if no one else existed but them. And in his dreams, no one else ever did.  
   
Jaime grinned, desperate to catch her off guard and he watched for the changes in her magnificent eyes as the jest formed easily on his tongue, "Come on, my love, the music is still playing."  
   
Brienne blinked in surprise as she broke away and Jaime followed, realising that he had only spoken a truth he had been too afraid to admit before. They fought for only moments longer, eventually forgoing kissing swords for a kiss of a different kind. She may not have been his perfect golden twin but that seemed to matter little now Jaime had Brienne in his arms. Half overhead words from childhood were remembered as the world started to freeze over again and Brienne became nothing but a warm caressing breeze. Jaime could not help but know she should have been his; body, heart and soul, though his father would have only declined such an offer had it come about, preferring control of the Riverlands over the small island of Tarth.  
   
But of course as the shadows grew longer Jaime awoke and forgot.  
   
And so nearly a moon's turn later as Brienne was proving herself to be a true knight, planning on returning him to his siblings despite her heart full of newly realised love, Jaime found he could still not dream of anything but her.  
   
   
Stepping through a great gateway that loomed cold and proud over her, it seemed to Brienne as if the palace had been carved out of the very ice that surrounded it. There must have been almost a hundred halls inside and not one was anything less than large, empty and icy cold. Mirth could never reign there, for the cutting winds that continued to howl made both man and beast alike afraid to enter. The signs of a recent battle littered the passageways, though only the corpse of a white bear remained behind in the stained snow. Shuddering at the beautiful savagery of teeth and claws Brienne did not allow herself to linger for long.  
   
Looking into another endless hallway, her eyes fell upon a frozen lake, which had been cracked into more than a thousand equal pieces, but curiously within that chamber there slept a familiar golden knight.  
   
Jaime was almost blue with cold as she approached, but what Brienne could not know was that any feeling the mirrored glass had not removed, the Snow Queen had sent far away with a kiss. Numb and motionless and deep in his dreams, Brienne would have been forgiven if she had believed her friend had simply frozen to death.  
   
"Jaime", she whispered, shaking his shoulder gently, as if the magician or the queen might decide that Brienne of Tarth could not be a worthy champion after all and would leave Jaime to an eternal slumber. "Jaime, please wake up."  
   
He was even more beautiful than Brienne could remember. Truly a man grown now, though not changed so much that she did not recognise her friend in each one of his perfect features. She fought the ache in her stomach and thud of her heart that wanted little else than to touch and feel and memorise, falling back to a time when glancing touches were just starting to feel like something born out of more than friendship. But despite her Septa's japes of betrothals, the golden knight had never been completely hers except in sweet, hazy dreams and her quest was not yet over.  
   
"Jaime. Please."  
   
His eyelids flickered like Jaime was beginning to answer her cries and in her innocence, Brienne started to help him to his feet the green that suddenly met her gaze, however, was as cold as winter itself.  
   
A cage like grip attempted to tighten around her wrist, but well-honed reflexes allowed Brienne to easily pull away before Jaime had her trapped. There was more than one trick he had shared with her to break a hold, though Brienne did not really want to hurt him unless it was unavoidable. As Jaime was already falling back into defensive patterns, rising out of the bed and drawing his sword in less time than it took Brienne to draw breath, it seemed he did not feel the same way.  
   
"Though you may be the first intruder I've come across I doubt her grace will be pleased with your unwanted presence, wench."  
   
"I promise I am not here to hurt you. Just give me the sword, Jaime." Brienne replied gently despite her blade being already up and ready.  
   
There was a moment of confusion as Jaime registered her use of his name but it did not last long enough to make a difference.  
   
"Oh I will."  
   
Brienne could not say how long they fought in the snow, blood and body reveling in the meeting of steel raining down on her from all angles, faster and faster and faster; for time slept when swords awoke. Jaime drove her back towards the wall but she slipped away, stepping and sliding and striking until she found herself pinned with little chance of escape.  
   
"Jaime, stop this."  
   
   
Jaime heard his name repeated for a second time, unknowingly pressing closer into the strange warmth and compassion coming off the wench. Her eyes blurred the line between ugly and beautiful and he almost remembered a curiosity, a smile, a blush and a sense of belonging. “Do I know you?” He asked breathlessly, for in his head thunder was rumbling in a familiar broken sky. Rising tension tried to tear the world apart and an eventual fall of rain soaked two sparring children to the skin. She was wide eyed and wary as they fought and something pushed him to cruelly hurt her over and over again. Words came but Jaime was unsure whether they were only spoken in his memory or to the wench herself.  
   
"Forgive me."  
   
And that was all Brienne needed to put him on the back foot.  
   
   
Steel spoke in her hands in a way that was better than words, singing and sparking and screaming as the blades met again and again. Brienne had missed feeling like this, for during her time in Renly's service she had not come across another opponent who could make her feel as alive as Jaime did. Even if he could not remember her face or name, he had not forgotten how she moved with sword in hand.  
   
Ice turned Jaime's foot and down to the ground he fell, an arm thrown almost protectively around her waist allowing Brienne to stumble with him. The Others may not have spilled a drop of her blood but as his sword dipped and slashed along her thigh a red flower bloomed, the point biting through layers of fur and calfskin.  
   
Jaime was holding on to her as tight as he could, the ugly sapphire eyed maiden from a time he could not yet place. "I think I dreamed of you."  
   
"I dreamed of you", she echoed, her eyes filling with tears. A burning hot droplet escaped when she blinked, running down her face and falling onto his as Jaime finally stilled beneath her. The salt seared his skin, branding Jaime as all her trust and love tried to thaw the heart that had been frozen for too long.  
   
"Brienne?"  
   
She wept openly at the sound of her own name, swords forgotten as the woman Jaime had claimed in dreams every night for weeks, melted into his opening arms. Without thinking he buried his face in the warmth of her neck, inhaling memories and a distinctive salty sweetness he found there. Brienne made a soft noise that was far more maid than warrior and it sent another jolt to his speeding heart.  
   
His own tears were silent but that did not mean their arrival was any less important than Brienne's. For hers had only consumed the cold that had seeped beneath his skin, while those falling from overwhelmed emeralds took the splinters and shards of evil glass away to remain frozen forever as soon as they hit the ground.  
   
"Brienne?" Jaime asked again, slipping his icy hands into the hidden warmth beneath her furs, "Gods, what exactly have they been feeding you on Tarth that made you get so big?"  
   
"Shut your mouth", Brienne replied, but he felt a smile win out over irritation as her lips grazed his cheek. "We cannot stay here very much longer, her grace may return at any moment."  
   
"Brienne", he pushed her up and away, watching her blush as Jaime regarded her lack of womanly curves a little too carefully. "Unless my eyes deceive me, a champion has been declared and the Queen of Snow and Ice is as stubborn as you when it comes to oaths. She has to let me go now."  
   
Her tears were still wet on his face, snow melting in his hair and Brienne smiled again, feeling like a child of eleven and a maid of sixteen all at once. There were few words to describe why she had travelled so far just to lay eyes on Jaime alive again, but her heart knew.  
   
"Did you stories not teach you anything?" Jaime broke the silence by rising to his knees, tugging her hand a little closer. "A maid must always thank the knight that comes to the rescue."  
   
The kiss he bestowed was not the one he truly wanted to give, as gentle as a noble princess or lady granting their chosen champion a chaste touch. He grinned as Brienne trembled in response and an almost wicked thought came to him.  
   
"Lucky for you I am not much of a maid."  
   
Pulling himself up Jaime realised that she had grown even taller in their time apart. His fingers quivered as he reached up to brush away strands of hair that had become stuck to her face during their fight, the blue that had penetrated his subconscious blinding in it's purity. In that moment Jaime remembered everything the Snow Queen had made him forget, his friend, _his_ Brienne, and brought his mouth to a most wanted resting place.  
   
Her lips were as soft as powder snow and as a strange mix of gratitude and desire and love filled his veins, causing him to deepen the kiss, Brienne let out a whimper like she had never experienced the like before.  
   
"Forgive me, my lady", Jaime bowed respectively as he pulled away but his eyes did not leave hers. "I did think with that with your lands and title, _you_ would still be a maid."  
   
"I swore I would not marry until a man could defeat me in combat."  
   
Jaime laughed, a song no longer filled with bitterness or cruelty. "You were always fated to be mine then."  
   
Brienne glanced away, noticing the frozen blood on her wounded thigh. Her peal of laughter was possibly the sweetest sound Jaime could have ever hoped to hear. "I think I was."  
   
They took each other by the hand and left the empty embrace of the great hall for the final time. Brienne told him of everything that had come to pass; the sack of Kings Landing, Storm's End, and her champion's journey. Jaime only spoke of dreams and home.  
   
Stepping back into the Haunted Forest, they found the sun was blazing as warm as a summer's day and all ghosts had been banished back to the dark. Under the shelter of the trees waited Brienne's kind hearted mare, now flanked by two reindeer guards. The changeable child sat astride the larger of the pair, notable only for the flickering shades of grey in her eyes.  
   
Brienne was embraced like a sister, although grey turned as dark and stormy as uncrossable seas when Jaime was fixed in their gaze.  
   
"I should like to know if you deserve this knight, now that she has ran from one end of the Seven Kingdoms to the other for your sake."  
   
"Never", Jaime replied, smiling at Brienne's shocked expression. "I will never find a way to repay the debt she is owed. And yet, that does not matter as I am happy to belong to her. Now and forever."  
   
The child took both of their hands and promised that they would meet again; for Tarth had always been of great wonder and one day the call would be enough to warrant a visit. Leaving them to the rest of their journey home, away the reindeer went, not one single hoof print in the snow to show where they had been.  
   
   
Eastwatch by the Sea should have been two days ride but it was as if her horse had been gifted with a burst of speed from the gods themselves, for it was barely dark by the time they arrived.  
   
Jaime slid down from behind her, strong and lithe and graceful, before disappearing to barter their way onto a ship home. Though before he could vanish completely from her sight Brienne called him back, retrieving a foreign coin from where it had been hidden.  
   
His hand found hers again and together they walked towards the silken sails of a Braavosi vessel.  
   
"Valar morghulis", Brienne said as she pressed the coin into the hand of the captain.  
   
"Valar dohaeris", he answered, "Where are you two heading?"  
   
"Tarth", Jaime responded, keeping a tight hold of her hand.  
   
"No", Brienne shook her head, "Not yet. There is a tourney taking place at Bitterbridge that I would like to enter."  
   
Jaime could not help but grin at the prospect, "Kings Landing will suit us just fine then. And a cabin for me and my... betrothed if you would be so kind."  
   
Brienne blushed Lannister red as Jaime hauled her below decks. It would be many days before they arrived to face whatever future awaited them but that night when she boldly curled herself around Jaime, no longer children but embracing like they once had; his lips in her hair, her hands balled on his chest, caught up in each other, Brienne knew it would forever be summer in their hearts.

 

   
 _Osha smiled as she brought the story to a close, bidding her young charge to close his eyes and rest._  
   
 _"Is that what really happened?" Bran asked, being that he was never happy with endings._  
   
 _"You will have to ask Lord and Lady Lannister next time they visit your mother. Now you must sleep little lord."_  
   
 _Bran Stark closed his eyes and fell into dreams of blue and gold knights. And a world beyond The Wall._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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